Highly Strung
by SlyNellie
Summary: This takes place immediately after the last line in "Brown Eyed Girl" – Everyone goes to the bar and gets buzzed. Jane goes to the gym and gets violent. Maura goes to the kitchen and gets sexy. Jane goes to Maura's and gets laid. Finally. The end?
1. Chapter 1

_This takes place immediately after the last line in "Brown Eyed Girl" – Everyone goes to the bar and gets buzzed. Jane goes to the gym and gets violent. Maura goes to the kitchen and gets sexy. Jane goes to Maura's __and gets laid. Finally. The end?_

_HIGHLY STRUNG – Part 1_

"Can we get that beer now?"

Detective Jane Rizzoli confidently queries her colleagues as they stride along the sidewalk outside of BPD headquarters.

"The first three are on me," boasts Sergeant Vince Korsak as Rizzoli and Detective Barry Frost chuckle their approval.

Dr. Maura Isles, the chief medical examiner, quietly trails behind them. Lost in her thoughts over the day's events, she still manages to reach out and deliver a soft squeeze to Jane's left elbow. Jane notices. She always does.

"One quick chardonnay, then I must return and close out my paperwork for the case."

"Are you sure, Maura?" Jane places a light touch on her right shoulder. "You've gotta be exhausted like the rest of us."

The detective and the doctor exchange a long, unspoken look. It has been a difficult day for all of them but Jane knows enough not to push. She herself is unsure if she will make it past two beers.

"We won't stay too long," Jane promises.

Rizzoli curls a gentle hand along the middle of Maura's back and leads her inside _The Dirty Robber_. The next hour is a comfortable contrast to the chaos of the previous twenty four plus.

"Did that asshole really think he could take us cops down with an axe? What are we, friggin' trees?" Korsak polishes off his third beer as Frost and Rizzoli start on their second.

"Yeah, Jane's a birch and you're a dogwood," Frost offers.

Isles smiles into her wine glass. "And what does that make you, Detective Frost?"

Barry crosses his arms with a debonair flair and tilts his head to the side. He speaks with a deep, serious tone.

"Black oak."

Everyone at the table brays with much needed laughter. Korsak coughs up a pretzel while Rizzoli wipes a tear from her eye. Maura's signature grin emerges and it's aimed directly at Jane. That grin, no matter how many times Jane sees it, catches her completely off guard and she takes it all in with a flush to her face.

Korsak suddenly glances down at Frost's crotch with a look of concern.

"Then you better check for termites after that hookup you had last week!"

Again with the laughter, minus Barry. Jane tosses a peanut at Vince. After the kidnapping and rescue of a fellow officer's daughter, their humor is a well-deserved release, albeit a small one.

All three simultaneously turn to the doctor with anticipation. They wait for a few moments in silence.

"What?" Maura's curious tone surprises even Jane.

"No science lesson about bugs or the history of trees?"

"I'm sorry, everyone. Is there a specific insect or arbor you would like to know about?"

It's obvious that the doctor's mind is back in her lab. Detective Rizzoli's mind instantly blocks out Korsak, Frost, everyone at the bar, her own beer, and laser focuses solely on her friend.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm a little distracted." Maura coaxes the last drop of wine from her glass. "I really need to get back and finish that paperwork."

Jane unknowingly caresses Maura's fingertips with her own. Maura responds in kind. It's now Frost and Korsak's turn to exchange looks.

"Do you want me to walk you back?"

"Another time, Jane. I'll be better when everything is settled. You, on the other hand, need to go to bed and get some sleep. All of you – doctor's orders!"

"Dead doc's orders," sniffs Korsak.

"Even so, you don't want to end up naked on my table."

Frost stifles his words and sideways glances at Jane. She's too busy looking at Maura to notice. And there's that engrossing grin again. Jane catches her breath as the always elegant Dr. Isles leaves the booth and glides out of the bar. Rizzoli's stare follows behind until the door shuts. Black Oak Barry clears his throat.

"And that there is some super fine maple."

"Hey." Jane glowers at Frost with a combo defensive/aggressive look.

"Girl, please!" Barry and Vince snicker at each other.

The detective drains her beer bottle and slams it down on the table. Rising up, she quickly realizes that going home to sleep is not a favorable option. She's highly strung and totally needs to be undone.

"I'm hitting the gym to blow off some steam. You two clowns gonna be okay or do I need to call a cab?"

Frost continues his deep, serious tone.

"But Dr. Isles wanted you… in bed."

Korsak now adopts a higher pitched feminine voice.

"Doctor's orders, Jane. Oh, Jane. Jane!"

The two men cackle as a neutered Rizzoli stomps away from their table. She spins around on her heel before she reaches the door and calls back to them.

"All kidding aside, it's a real honor to work with you both, especially after today. You make me proud to wear the badge."

With sudden somber expressions, both men nod in silence and raise their glasses at her.

The late-afternoon sun fades into a smattering of fluffy pinks and oranges over the undulating harbor. Jane makes her way into a typical brick building. After the Robber, this is the other favorite hangout for Boston's blue crew. No doughnut shops on this block. Inside is a testament to the brute force needed to do the job – and do it well.

"Hey, sis!" Officer Frankie Rizzoli drops his dumbbells and trots over.

The two exchange a brief but heartfelt hug.

"Great job today, Janie."

"Thanks, little brother."

"Why the hell aren't you home catching some shuteye?"

Jane rolls her shoulders and stretches. "Can't. Way too amped."

"I bet you are. Feel like sparring in the ring?"

"Hell yeah, but not with you – don't wanna damage your handsome Rizzoli mug."

"You're just scared of me, admit it."

"Trembling." Jane fake shakes her upper limbs, winks, and then heads into the locker room.

Stripping off her sweaty, rumpled office attire of boots, belt, slacks, shirt, underwear, and watch is the first step in a ritual to rid the day's nightmares from her mind. Now clad in a black athletic top, matching shorts, and a pair of cross trainers, she returns to the main floor and starts skipping rope.

Frankie and an officer buddy playfully walk past. They chant in unison.

"Not last night but the night before, twenty-four robbers came knocking at my door…"

Jane snakes her rope into a bullwhip and smacks the ass of the offending party.

"Frankie, I understand – but you, Sanchez?"

"Your bro's idea, not mine."

Everyone exchanges lighthearted guffaws. Officer Sanchez extends his hand to Jane and shakes hers with reverence.

"Way to go, Rizzoli. Dan is a very lucky man. His family owes you big time."

Jane brushes off the compliment.

"Everyone here would have done the exact same."

Frankie flashes a look of pride at his sister, prompting her to stand up a little straighter. He now turns to Sanchez.

"So, dude, are ya gonna spot me or what?"

"Try not to strain anything, guys."

The two men head off as Jane sets her sights on the speed bag. The bumps and bruises of her earlier actions ache a little but she unfurls and settles into a steady rhythm.

Her mind flashes to her old partner. Rescuing Dan's daughter and dealing so closely with his wife and son might have been awkward considering their past history. But she felt absolutely nothing for him now except concern for a fellow cop.

They had a one-week stand and it ended as quickly as it started. Sex for release, pure and simple. It was a problem that plagued more than a few partners but Rizzoli only gave into it with him. She was young and horny. He was more than accommodating.

But Jane knew continuing down this road would never earn her the respect of the department. She heard what the boys gossiped about when it came to female officers and being a good cop was vastly more important to her than being a good lay.

Not that she wasn't a good lay.

In fact, she was a great lay. Damn amazing lay! She had been told this by all half dozen of her lovers. Yes, it would shock everyone to know that her number did not even reach double digits. She kept her heart in check and her attention on the job.

Jane was also made keenly aware of her physical beauty by the men on the squad and she tried to diminish it so she wouldn't be known as _Italian Vogue_, their ridiculous nickname for her.

The only other woman in the building that turned heads faster than her own belonged to Dr. Maura Isles, _The Queen of the Dead_. And Jane's head turned for her as well. She was the living embodiment of sultry which made her intellect all the more appealing.

The day Jane met Maura, she rapidly realized she was her equal. And their strengths and weaknesses were complimentary, not divisive. The men who were Jane's equals were usually assholes of epic proportions.

Jane often wondered if that meant she was an asshole of epic proportions. Her family would make her feel that way from time to time. Even Frost and Korsak did so unintentionally. Maura was the only one who did not. She made Jane feel like a rock star.

Every fucking day.

Working together for well over a year, Maura had quickly become Jane best's friend. Ever. And Rizzoli did not want to destroy a good thing – a precious thing – with simple lust. Yet, deep down, the detective suspected it was much more than that. At least, on her end.

Their ever-increasing touches and steamy glances suggested that the good doctor might be open to more, much more, if Jane had the nerve to try. But Jane is too frightened to do so. It's only the second time in her life where fear bores beyond bone and into marrow.

The detective now pauses the pounding of the speed bag and takes a breather on the blue mat beneath her. Wiping her face with a towel, Rizzoli now grabs a cold sports drink and gulps it down. Jane sadly realizes that nothing, so far, has taken her edge off.

"Up for a little fun, detective?"

The barking baritone echoes from inside the boxing ring. An old partner, Jake Briggs, motions to her with a crude taunt.

"Aw, man." Jane sighs to herself and tries to look away.

"C'mon, hero – let's play!"

Jane instantly flashes back to an earlier encounter with the annoyingly deplorable pig. They were finishing the last cups of cold coffee outside of their patrol car when Briggs let loose with one of his warped world views. Jane only half listened.

"Y'know, there are only two kinds of chick cops, Rizzoli – lezzies who hate cock and whores who can't get enough of it. What kind are you?"

She considered nut crunching him for a brief second but it would only make matters worse. Ultimately, Jane knew her reaction would have reverberations for months. So, she smiled, grabbed Briggs by his wrist, and twisted him down to his knees.

"I'm the kind that's gonna save your worthless life on the job because you're too busy being a dick to pay attention."

It wasn't long after that Briggs put in for a transfer.

"Are you gonna get in here with me or not, Rizzoli?"

Jane's focus is pulled back to the present. More men around the gym are now joining the crowd of quizzical looks.

"Ignore him, sis – go home and get some rest."

Frankie glares at Briggs as Jane heads for the ring.

"Oh, I'm fine, Frankie. Just fine."

"This is only sparring, Jane."

"Sure it is."

The detective slaps on some gloves and headgear as Briggs struts around, licking his chops. With a feral motion, Jane twists her long body over the ropes and hops into the center.

"This is gonna be fun for me, Briggs – not you."

Jane definitely has the height and age advantage but Briggs is a stocky wall of meat, ready to absorb her blows.

"Shall we dance?"

Rizzoli is deaf to the surrounding din as the rumble lasts a couple of rounds. No clear winner yet. Briggs tries to get inside his opponent's head with a well-placed whisper.

"You're gonna suck my cannoli and like it."

Jane responds with a solid blow to Briggs' right flank. He nearly doubles over but rapidly regains his footing. A scowl of stank is plastered on her face.

"Thanks for ruining dessert for me – FOR A YEAR, stronzo!"

"Sorry, I don't speak WOP."

The fist flourishes continue. Frankie and Sanchez watch with agitation.

"Don't let him bait you, Janie – keep on his right!"

All activity in the gym ceases as all eyes are now squarely on Rizzoli and Briggs.

"So, hero – what's it like fucking a rich bitch?"

Rizzoli is so stunned, she doesn't have time to see the punch, let alone block it. Briggs lands a nasty upper cut that sends her tumbling to the floor. After a second to consider if she wants this to continue, Jane slowly raises herself up and looks Briggs dead in the eye.

"Why don't you try being a real man?"

"You'd know all about that 'cuz your top-shelf snatch sure loves slummin' it, Southie style, don't she?"

Frankie now jumps into the ring with Sanchez right behind.

"THAT'S ENOUGH – c'mon, Jane, let's go!"

She desperately wants to take another swing at Briggs but realizes the scenario is rapidly deteriorating. She turns her back and begins to follow Frankie and Sanchez out of the ring. Briggs bellows after them.

"Tell me, Rizzoli… when you eat Isles' pussy, does it taste like caviar?"

WHOOMP.

A bolt of black-haired lightning cracks the center of the ring. Briggs is now flat on his ass with a bleeding, broken nose.

"DISGUSTING SONOFABITCH, GET UP."

"Jane, stop it!

Frankie and Sanchez have all they can do to pull her away from him. With wild eyes and gnashed teeth, Rizzoli tears off her gloves and headgear and gets directly in Briggs' face.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK UP, YOU COWARD."

Briggs gurgles in extreme pain.

"YOU'RE A FUCKING DEAD MAN, YOU FUCKING BASTARD – IS THAT FUCKING WOP ENOUGH FOR YA?"

Others have now ringed the ring to break up the discord. Frankie and Sanchez hustle Jane out of the gym in double-time. The younger Rizzoli puts his sister in the passenger seat of his classic Camero and silently offers a look of gratitude to Sanchez as they leave.

Headlights zoom down the boulevard. After a few moments of silence and deep breaths, Frankie tries to cool the mood with retro tunes. Jane hisses her displeasure.

"Aw God, Spandau Ballet? – are you kidding me?"

"I like this song!"

"Have I taught you nothing?"

Jane snaps open the glove compartment and fishes through the CDs. She accusingly holds up Queensryche and slams it in the player.

"Apparently, I have - you're such a liar, little brother, you said you didn't take it."

"I borrowed it."

"Six months ago?"

"You know you're gonna get written up, Jane."

"Like I give a shit."

"Lucky for you, today's earlier events might smooth it out."

"Again, like I give a shit."

"You do know why you went ballistic when Briggs mentioned Maura, right?"

"HE DIDN'T JUST 'MENTION' HER, FRANKIE, HE FUCKING PISSED ALL OVER HER… AND ME."

"Whoa, calm down, I'm on your side, remember?"

"Sorry, I just…"

Jane pounds her open palm against the car side three succinct times.

"You break it, you fix it."

The older sibling shoots a half smile at the younger one.

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it?"

"You know you're in love with Maura… own up to it."

Jane loudly sighs into her hands and rubs her face.

"Instead of banging the crap out of my car, Janie, why don't you try banging the crap out of her? Just a thought."

Jane responds by jamming up the volume and slumping in her seat.

"JET CITY WOMAN, IT'S A LONG WAY, HOME TO MY…"

Frankie can't help but join in.

"JET CITY WOMAN. I SEE HER FACE EVERYWHERE, CAN'T GET HER OUT OF MY MIND…"

The ride to Jane's apartment takes extra long due to heavy traffic and the outrageous need to finish the entire CD with air drums and guitar. Evening shadows wrap the city skyline with a westerly breeze blowing cold. Frankie now pulls up directly in front of his sister's place.

"I'm glad I have a brother like you, Frankie."

The detective pats the younger Rizzoli on the arm as she unbuckles her seatbelt. He returns the pat.

"I'll tell Tommy you said that."

"Please do."

Jane flings the door open and thinks twice about taking her CD. Frankie gives her the eye.

"One more month, then I want it back."

"Go inside and crash, because crashing Briggs' face is not the answer."

"And you know what is?"

"You do… time for some blue sky, Janie."


	2. Chapter 2

_Quickly: A big THANK YOU to everyone who wrote to me personally and signed up for the updates, I'm bowled over and beyond appreciative!_

Highly Strung – Part 2

"Ouch!"

For the second time in under a minute, Dr. Maura Isles nicks her soapy calf with an unforgiving razor.

"Good thing I'm not a vascular surgeon," she reflects.

The medical examiner continues to bathe in a hot, frothy tub with a citrus-scented scrub and honeydew candles competing with the last vestiges of twilight. The enveloping jet massage does very little to ease her desolate thoughts.

Performing her duties on a child was a circle of Hell beyond description. It's the only time Maura truly despised her job and truly despised humanity. This one case in particular is not easily washed away, even though it ended hours ago.

"I'm so sorry, sweet girl, it never should have happened to you… to anyone."

Isles did everything she could and more. That's why she had to return to the office and make sure a horrific tragedy was not made worse by botched paperwork. She also called to cover the family's funeral expenses and dropped over $30,000 in under 30 minutes by donating to various charities involved with missing children, sexual abuse victims, and youth sports.

Yet, the girl's face is still seared in her mind's eye. Kidnapped. Sexually tortured. Murdered while protecting another innocent. A lefty.

"I don't understand. I don't ever want to understand…"

She drowns her soft sobs by immersing her entire head beneath the bubbles. After a long pause, she brings it back up and takes a deep, cleansing breath. It's one of the few times logic won't ride to Maura's rescue.

A triple chime alerts her to an incoming text message.

"Please don't let it be work. Please!"

She reaches across the top of the tub to her smart phone and checks the screen.

**J. Rizzoli: hope ur ok & hope ur home! gym now. oxox**

"Of course it's you, Jane."

Warmth quickly returns to Maura's cheeks as she smiles to herself. The doctor is not especially fond of text messages with truncated pseudo language but the message was all Jane at exactly the right time. Right down to the backwards XOXO.

"My sexy southpaw…"

She taps the music player on her phone to The Cowboy Junkies' version of _Sweet Jane_ and lets it play on repeat.

The doctor flashes back to the first time she met the detective at HQ.

"Are you lost?"

A baffled Maura blinks up from her inadequate building map and meets the dark, smoldering eyes of one Jane Rizzoli.

"You look a little lost."

That bewitching voice is like walking on gravel after a vernal rainstorm with rubber soled boots.

"I am lost."

Maura is still reeling from the stunning beauty before her and flashes a defensive grin until she can complete another coherent sentence. It isn't the first time she's been attracted to a member of the same sex but this was an instant sensation she'd never felt before.

"Well, it's your lucky day… I found you."

"Lucky, indeed."

Jane moves in a little closer. The two stare at each other longer than what is typical.

"So, where do you need to get to?"

"Eh, I'm a little embarrassed. I have an advanced degree but I can't seem to find… the third floor."

Jane nods in recognition and chuckles.

"You're not the only one. See, when they annexed this building, the fourth floor became the third floor of the new building which is actually supposed to be the main floor for both buildings. Do you follow?"

"Not really."

"Not a problem, follow me."

Jane strides a little ahead while Maura click clacks behind with her too high heels. She remembers a less than impressive outing not too long ago to see the movie _Avatar_. The date was a disaster but she enjoyed the movie much more than she thought she would.

This woman before her reminds Isles of the alien creatures in the film without the cyanosis. Long, lean, noble, and gentle, yet with savage always simmering right beneath the surface. She wondered what it would take to turn on le sauvage.

"Here to see your husband or boyfriend?"

The taller woman's query shakes the smaller woman's contemplation.

"No, no. It's my first day on the job."

"Ah, human resources then."

"No!" Maura is now perturbed by the assumptions. "For your information, I'm the new medical examiner."

Jane spins around with a subtly surprised look but quickly returns to her path.

"You're not what I was expecting and do you need to go to HR to fill out forms?"

The doctor's tone lightens a little.

"Yes, yes I do. Thank you."

Rizzoli scratches the back of her neck and heads for the elevator.

"So, how do you keep the blood and guts off of those fancy shoes of yours?"

"I take great care with my fluids."

Jane blends a laugh into a cough and hits the button.

"I'm sure you do."

With Rizzoli's back to her, Isles takes the opportunity for a quick physique critique and studies the long legs before her with an appreciative gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane catches her looking.

"Are you ready to go down?"

"Pardon?"

Maura's uncontrollable blush brings out the dimples in Jane's cheeks.

"The elevator."

"Right, of course."

With her arousal building, Isles wanted more than anything to go down, with, on, in, around, under, any preposition she could think of, with the delicious dessert next to her.

A uniformed officer hurries past the doors as they step inside. The two of them are now alone. Their eyes can't quell the erotic communication. Maura leans back against the wall and slowly arches her thoracic spine. Her ample bosom juts out a little more. Jane doesn't even attempt to hide her ogle.

The doors open and three others join them. The doctor and detective move a little closer to each other and snap back to professionalism. Isles is beyond certain that if no one else was in the elevator with them, they would be having sex right now.

Not a great way to start your first day on the job but she is more than willing to risk being fired if it meant having this woman. Only children become obsessed when they want something bad enough. 'No' only means a temporary delay until they find a way to 'yes.'

The doors open and all of the others except one walk out. And the one remaining is talking loudly on his cell phone. The doctor decides to speak softly to her new idée fixe.

"Between your significant height and exceptional osseous structure, you could be a fashion model."

"Does that line usually work for you?"

"It is neither a line nor a lie, it is the truth."

Jane can't help but notice the earnestness in Maura's face but still rolls her eyes.

"As long as you don't call me _Italian Vogue_, we'll be fine."

"Are you a district attorney?"

"Good God, no!"

Rizzoli shoves two fingers in her mouth and pretends to blow her brains out. Isles pretends to examine the brains on the wall.

"Looks like I have my first case."

The two laugh until they realize they have gone several floors past where they needed to go. The electricity between them is still sparking.

"Shit. Sorry."

Jane punches the button for the right floor and rubs her nose. Maura retreats to a corner.

"So, might I ask what it is you do here?"

"Huh? – oh, I'm a cop… detective."

"That would explain your sensible shoes."

"And the shiny badge and big gun…"

Jane opens her jacket and flashes Maura. The doctor takes in all of the detective's equipment with a raised eyebrow and an evil grin.

"Here we are."

They step out into a large corridor. Officers and office workers stream past. Afraid that she is nearing the end of her ride with the detective, the doctor attempts a last ditch conversation.

"I like your belt buckle."

Rizzoli replies with a quizzical expression.

"It's a perfect concentric shape and a yonic symbol of empowerment."

"Um, okay."

"Where did you purchase it?"

"Ma bought it for me on sale."

"Well, your mother has exquisite taste."

"She has some kind of taste, I'm not sure exquisite is the word I'd use."

"It matches your fetching watch."

Rizzoli flips her wrist and genuinely regards the timepiece.

"My folks gave it to me when I graduated from the academy."

"Ooh, my parents gave me my watch when I recited _The Canterbury Tales_ in its original Middle English."

"Sounds like fun."

Jane stops and points around a corner.

"You want the fifth door on your right."

Both are a little hesitant since they know they have to go their separate ways.

"Thank you for all of your help, detective."

"My pleasure, doctor."

"I'll be meeting with one of your coworkers after HR… a Detective Rizzoli."

The name rolls off of Maura's tongue with a spot on accento italiano.

"Wow, not even my grandfather said it that good!"

"My glossa is well versed – wait, you're Detective Rizzoli?"

The taller woman extends her right hand and uses the American version of her surname.

"It's Rizzoli but you can call me Jane."

The doctor goes to shake it with her right, stops herself, and offers up her sinister hand instead. The detective is deeply appreciative of the lefty gesture, matches it, and delicately takes Isles' hand into hers.

"Nice to meet you, Jane. I'm Maura – Maura Isles."

The squeeze between their hands is warm and lingering.

"I guess I'll be seeing Maur-a you later, then."

The smaller woman winces.

"By the way, that's payback for your fashion model line."

"It wasn't a line. If you ever want to stop being a cop, I have connections in Milan."

They realize they're still holding hands. Reluctantly, they go to break the hold but their finger tips catch briefly before full separation. Rizzoli is the first to say something.

"Be careful, Dr. Isles, I think our handshake means I put a curse on you."

Maura's signature smile erupts into a full-blown dental display. Before she walks away, she responds in a low timbre.

"Or a spell…"

Knowing full well that she is being watched by her intended target, Isles puts an extra bounce in her step as she sashays around the corner. Jane bites her lips and pivots in the opposite direction. She runs into Vince Korsak.

"Whoa, who's the foxy lady?"

"Just get back from a Hendrix concert?"

"No seriously, she looks like a fox with that hair – it reminds me of the time I was in the woods and rescued…"

"Not until we get to the Robber and not until I've had two beers!"

"Well, whoever she is sure was checking you out – all she needed was a knife and a fork!"

"She… is our new ME and you need to show a little respect."

"No kidding? – being dead don't seem so bad all of the sudden."

"Knock it off, Korsak."

"Don't give me the innocent act, Rizzoli, I get enough of that from our perps – you were checking her out, too… all you needed was a spoon."

Jane goes to say something but realizes how good a detective her partner is and decides to keep mum. He motions to her to follow.

"C'mon, the chief wants us in the conference room to go over quarterly stats."

"Great."

"Frost brought bagels."

Vince considers cracking a joke about eating a bagel but instantly backs down when Jane gives him the 'don't-you-fucking-dare' stare. He ambles down the hall.

"I've got dibs on poppyseed!"

Rizzoli shoves her hands in her pockets and trails behind Korsak with a victory strut. She momentarily freezes and spies over her shoulder in the direction of the hall where Maura was last seen. Empty.

The two detectives now disappear out of visual range. Maura pokes her head out from a drinking fountain alcove she deliberately hid in. She overheard the whole exchange and sighs into a satisfied smile.

"It's only a matter of time, Jane Rizzoli."

Her reminiscence ends and she is fully back in the present. Still in the tub, she turns to the bronze barley twist towel rack beside it and reaches under the precisely folded terrycloth. Isles clutches a simple red t-shirt and covers her nose and mouth with it like an anesthesia mask. She inhales deeply.

Most people kept a secret stash of drugs, or money, or jewelry. Maura kept a secret stash of Jane.

Lying was a problem for the doctor. Purloining when it suited a purpose? Not so much. In her childhood, she did it for attention. Now, she stole the detective's unlaundered shirt to always have a piece of her. And she delighted in the irony of stealing from a cop.

This simple shirt was taken during one of Jane's follicular phases. It's the time of the month when Jane smells the most Jane-like to Maura and the scent is incredibly exhilarating.

"I need you."

In her ongoing favorite fantasy, the doctor is now joined in the tub by the detective. Their eyes lock as their bodies slither and slide against each other. They kiss constantly. Water whirls around them as their passion intensifies.

Isles continues to huff Rizzoli's shirt with one hand as she slips the other between her legs. Maura's toes are about to curl under when the screeching sound of her cell shatters the ecstasy. It's the ringtone for her assistant, Yoshima.

"NO, NO, NOT NOW."

Too late. Besides, the doctor knows her loyal assistant would never call after hours unless it was a true emergency. She drops Jane's shirt and picks up her phone.

"What is it, Yoshima?"

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Dr. Isles, but there is a situation with Detective Rizzoli that you need to be aware of…"

Sheer, unfettered panic seizes Maura's entire body.

"WHAT'S HAPPENED TO JANE?"

Scrambling out of the tub, she nearly trips over her feet as she grabs a towel.

"Detective Rizzoli is fine – but Officer Briggs mostly likely has maxillary and nasal fractures."

"Were they in a fight?"

"Well, they actually fought with each other here at the gym."

"Whatever prompted them to do that?"

"Um, you."

Maura can't find the words as she attempts to dry herself off.

"Officer Briggs made some highly inflammatory remarks about the two of you and… and Detective Rizzoli promptly extinguished the discussion."

"What did Briggs say?"

"I can't really repeat what he said."

"Yoshima, please."

"I am too uncomfortable…"

"You won't offend me, I realize you are simply the messenger."

Yoshima takes in a breath as he weighs his answer.

"I need to know, now!"

"Uh… Officer Briggs asked Detective Rizzoli, um, when she… when she orally ingests your, uh, slang word for both vagina and cat… if, um, if the palate experience is, is, similar to that of… uh, sssssturgeon roe."

"AHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

"Dr. Isles!"

"HAHAHA – he wanted to know when she ate my pussy if it tasted like caviar?"

"I am mortified, but yes."

"OH, THAT'S HYSTERICAL – poor Jane must have had an aneurysm."

"How is that even remotely funny, Dr. Isles?"

"Oh, Yoshima, lighten up - yes, it was demeaning and wrong and in poor taste… heh, taste, but it's also a rather astute observation for someone of his clearly diminished capacity."

"I… I need to go now, Dr. Isles."

"I appreciate your call and your candor, thank you… oh, and I will be taking the day off tomorrow."

Normally, Maura would have been as offended as her assistant but she couldn't help but feel exuberant over the outcome. Everyone sees it. Everyone! Jane must surly see it as well or her reaction wouldn't have been so knee jerk, so ferocious.

As she peers at her semi nude reflection in the mirror, Isles smirks and plans a course of action. Dinner, yes, dinner was about to be served. She triumphantly taps her phone.

_**Calling... J. Rizzoli**_


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, thanks to everyone for their communication and continued support. This story will be finished before the new episodes begin, I promise! And for those of you who do not have family from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, when you read this city name, Worcester, don't pronounce it like you think you should. Say 'WOO-sta' to get the full effect; )_

Highly Strung – Part 3

"Thanks, Frankie – 'night!"

The car door slams behind her as Jane trudges up the steps of her apartment building. Once inside, Rizzoli plucks a bag of frozen carrots – she hates peas – from the freezer and tries to decide which bruise on her body to cover.

With her forehead the victorious recipient, the detective flops on the sofa. She thought sleep would swarm her in seconds. Instead, the sweet scent of Maura's Indonesian perfume all over her Bruins pillow almost causes Jane to climax.

"REALLY?"

The detective darts up, chucks the pillow and the carrots across the room, and groans on the way down the hall. After everything that has happened over the last day and night and day and nearly night, her fucking edge was still there!

Stripping off clothes yet again, Jane jumps in the shower and lingers under its warm wetness. At times like these, she would recall happy humping escapades from her past. She searches through her sparse cerebral library and lands on Dan.

Nothing. Empty. Like it had been wiped clean.

Suddenly, the sad, doll-like face of Dan's wife appears on the showerhead.

"Please don't fuck my husband, Jane!"

Shrieking with laughter, Rizzoli sinks to the bottom of the shower and holds her face in her hands.

"OH MY GOD, I'M TOTALLY LOSING IT – the hallucinations are a nice touch."

After settling herself and regaining her shampoo, Jane's mind wanders back to last week when her very best friend treated her to frozen yogurt at Faneuil Hall.

She asks Maura why they can't have good old regular ice cream and is met with a ten-minute dissertation about proper bowel bacteria. This so wouldn't have been a major memory except for what happens next.

"Jane, your waffle cone is dripping."

"It always does – I'm such a slob, maybe a couple more napki…"

The sensation of Maura's wet tongue swirling over her sticky fingers immobilizes Rizzoli faster than brain freeze. The usually dignified doctor continues to lap the edges, digits and all, until the dripping of the cone stops.

New dripping was suddenly forming elsewhere for Jane.

"Mmm, your coffee bean latte is delicious." Isles takes one more hit before relinquishing the cone back to its owned owner.

If they weren't in the middle of a public place, Jane would have taken Maura right there on the tabletop. Even the urge to kiss her was overwhelming and commanded complete control.

"Uh… I think… I, uh, need… to go."

"Are you not feeling well?"

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry – I wanted us to have a nice day out – get away from the usual."

Jane gingerly stands and offers a quick half smile.

"No, no – this has been… um, very nice. Thank you. Maura. Yep. See ya!"

"I could stop over later and make sure you're okay?"

"Nah, that's okay." Rizzoli stalks away, sucking air through an invisible straw in her mouth.

Back to the present on the slick tile floor, Jane now lunges up and almost rips the adjustable showerhead off of its hinges. But before she can go to town, the detective halts herself, cranks the faucet to Nova Scotia cold and calmly finishes her chaste bathing.

"I will NOT ruin you, Maura. I will not ruin this for us."

Clean but still feeling a little dirty, Jane throws on a white tank top, black sweats, a Red Sox gray away jersey, and some weird-ass purple slippers her mother bought her last Christmas. She flips the game on and rummages through her drawer for delivery menus. The hunger in her stomach overrules the hunger down below.

A ringtone of The Subways' _Strawberry Blonde_ ripples through Jane's apartment and soul.

_You're the wind and I am the weathervane,_

_You're the strawberry blonde and I'm the gray._

She debates with herself to answer.

_You're the light and I am the firefly,_

_You're the star and I am the blackened sky._

The argument never truly starts.

"Hey, Maura."

"Thank you for defending my honor."

"What?"

"Yoshima was at the gym…"

Jane fidgets with the menus in silence.

"He said you nearly decapitated Officer Briggs."

"Briggs is scum – insulted my heritage."

"Apparently more than that."

Jane paces the floor and attempts to change the subject.

"So, are you finished with the paperwork?

"Yes, I'm home now – thanks for your text earlier, it came at the perfect time."

"You did right by that girl and her family. Not many would have stayed the extra hours."

"Except you."

"I should have forced you to go home."

"You can't force me to do anything I don't want to do, detective."

"Maybe you need a better boss, doctor."

"Know where I can find one?"

There is a long lull between them.

"Would you like to come over, Jane?"

Rizzoli's mind screams yes but her mouth refuses to open. She swallows hard.

"I'm making three-cheese spinach and shitaki frittatas."

"That sounds delicious."

"And dessert is a raspberry pear crème brulee."

"I'd love to get bru-laid."

"Sold yet?"

"I… don't want to disturb you – you need some rest."

"On the contrary, I need some company."

"Well, I'm sure Ma would love…"

"Jane!"

The detective starts sucking air through her invisible mouth straw again.

"Don't make me beg. I want you to come… over. Now. Please?"

Rizzoli's standard throaty growl ascends into a timid octave.

"Okay."

Jane doesn't even bother to change. She grabs her car keys and dashes out the door.

Maura smiles, sets down her phone and picks up a knife. She staccato chops the spinach and mushrooms in perfect unison with Mozart's _Rondo alla Turca._ The music compliments the crackles and clangs of a creative kitchen.

Calculating Jane's drive time down to the second, Maura finishes preparing the main course and sets her sights on the croissants. As she works the dough, she flashes back to earlier in the week when she was making dinner with Jane's mother, Angela.

"The key to a good braciola, my dear, is the combo of the right meat with the right cheese."

Isles watches intently as the older woman wraps the yummy bundles and stakes them with elongated toothpicks.

"My mouth is watering, Mrs. Rizzoli!"

"Ah-ahh."

"Angela."

"I prefer beef with Pecorino Romano but that's just me. For whatever reason, Jane likes a little spinach shoved inside."

"Will she be joining us tonight?"

"No, she's in Worcester with her father."

Maura tries to hide her disappointment but not before Angela catches it.

"We'll save her a plate for later."

"What's in Worcester?"

"Her old high school boyfriend."

Maura almost chops off the tip of her finger.

"Careful, hon."

"Oh… I think I underestimated the density of this garlic clove."

"Right."

Maura's brow is furrowed as she continues to chop. Angela sideways glances at her.

"Marc and his husband Geoffrey give Frank a great discount on copper piping. Janie goes along to say hi every couple of months."

"Marc and Geoffrey, how nice!"

Maura lets out a breath held too long and wipes her forehead. Angela begins work on the basil.

"Don't tell my sons I said this… my girl is the smartest of all my kids."

The doctor stops herself from saying 'that's very obvious' and blends some tomatoes in the food processor.

"But Jane can also be the most thick… especially when it comes to relationships."

Angela sets a skillet on the stove as Maura measures out the olive oil.

"Sweetie, you spook the hell out of my daughter…"

A puzzled expression crosses the younger woman's face as the older one looks her square in the eye.

"She doesn't know how to handle her attraction to you."

Maura nearly drops the oil.

"I swear, Mrs. Rizzoli, we're just friends, best friends!"

"I know… and that's the problem – here, hand me that bay leaf."

Maura's mind races through all of the possible ways to answer Angela but can't find one that's plausible. So, she does what she's told and searches the assorted spices.

"Jane doesn't have a lot of friends, girl friend-y friends in particular, and you two are colleagues, so it's difficult."

"Yes, we are colleagues."

Maura hears those words tumble from her mouth and shakes her head at the inanity of the only truthful answer she can verbalize. With an understanding only a mother has, the older woman places a consoling touch on the younger woman's arm.

"You're in love with my daughter, aren't you?"

This time, Maura is unable to hide behind food or words or any other convenient façade. With one simple statement, Angela had demolished her carefully constructed dam. And the doctor is only able to respond with a flood of tears.

"Aw, sweetie, I'm so sorry – c'mere."

Mrs. Rizzoli pulls Isles into a warm embrace and gently pats her back. Maura quickly wipes her tears with her hand and then a paper towel.

"Whew, those… those onions sure are strong."

"They must be since they're still in the cabinet waiting to be cut up."

Trails of tears return to Maura's face and she is unable to control her sobs.

"Yes… Angela, I am in love with your daughter – I have been for quite some time."

"I know… and I also know Jane feels the same way about you."

Although Maura always suspected it, to hear her inkling validated by someone else – the Rizzoli matriarch, no less – is simply astonishing to the doctor.

"When… how do you… how do know?"

"I know – just about everyone with a pair of eyes knows, my dear."

Maura pauses with the cuisine preparation and pours herself a large glass of Red Zin. She takes more than a sip and sighs. Mrs. Rizzoli looks longingly at the wine glass.

"Oh, I apologize – how rude of me! Would you like some, too?"

Angela already grabs a glass from the cabinet and reaches over.

"Who's gonna turn down good wine?"

The two clink glasses and return to their dinner recipes.

"Mrs. Rizz… Angela – did Jane ever say why she's… reluctant to act?"

"You mean why she won't go to the ocean with you?"

Maura nearly spits out her wine and chokes into a sustained snicker.

"Yes, exactly – why won't she go to the ocean with me? My yacht is on standby 24/7 and I have practically thrown the captain's hat at her!"

It's now Angela's turn to laugh with gusto.

"Janie would look cute in that hat, wouldn't she?"

"So cliché, but I agree."

The older woman checks the pan on the stove while the younger woman combines the ingredients in a casserole pot.

"You know, Maura, since the time my girl has known you, she has worn more skirts and dresses than in her entire life – thank you, by the way."

"Actually, I find Jane to be her most attractive in a t-shirt and shorts."

"That's because love is blind, hon, it truly is…"

The doctor raises an eyebrow and cleans up some spilled pepper.

"And you're a leg girl, you'd have to be since Janie wasn't blessed with my side of the family upstairs – but you got that more than covered for both of you."

Isles is still ruminating over the 'leg girl' comment.

"I do love her legs… I want to slather them in crème fraiche and drape them around my neck like a Hermès silk scarf."

The doctor makes the sudden realization that the mother of the dream legs and not some random chat buddy is standing before her and heard every single salacious word spoken out loud. It hits Maura like a ton of bricks all festooned in sequined nun habits.

"Oh dear God – I AM SOOO SORRY."

"Don't be, it's not like I haven't heard that before – well, I haven't heard THAT before but I know what you mean."

Maura's crimson face is buried in a towel as she careens between horror and hilarity.

"The point I was trying to make earlier with the dresses is that Jane does things for you that she'd never do for anyone else, not even her own mother. If that ain't a clue, I don't know what is."

"But I'm doing things, too – I'm going to baseball games, I'm going to bars to watch baseball games and drink, eck, beer, and I'm going to stadiums that hold baseball games to see rock concerts… and drink beer."

Isles takes another gulp of wine.

"But I draw the line at Adam Sandler movies – everyone has a breaking point… everyone."

"Have you tried answering the door naked?"

Maura covers her face with the kitchen towel once again.

"It worked for me and her father more than a few times."

A light bulb shines and shatters in the doctor's head.

"It's my father, isn't it?"

Angela's confused expression alerts Maura to the fact that Jane never told her about the mobster sperm donor. The doctor quickly obfuscates.

"My family, Jane must have an issue with my family."

Angela returns to kitchen work and crinkles up her nose.

"Oh please, no one's family is perfect – my son, Tommy, hello!"

"Well, then it certainly isn't my friends because Jane is it."

The older woman genuinely looks surprised.

"Indeed, I have a litany of glorified acquaintances – all of the conservative ones are drowning in dogma and they continually challenge me to debate creation versus evolution… the ennui sets in for me after 10 minutes."

"What about your other pals?"

"The liberal ones are self-loathing addicts who only call for bail money, and my parents' pretentious society ilk only want warm bodies for their events, and let's not forget my former sorority sisters who make it their mission in life to see me married off…"

"I think you should throw a party and invite all these people over… it would be very interesting."

"No, thank you – as you can see, solo daytrips to the Museum of Fine Arts was my only refuge until Jane came along… she inverted my world."

Angela ceases her cooking clatter and comes up behind Maura. The wrap-around hug is almost identical to that of her daughter's. The doctor cherishes the affection and squeezes Mrs. Rizzoli's hands. She feels the tears making a return visit to her nasolacrimal ducts.

"After… after the shooting, I wanted to tell her, I desperately wanted to say something but the emotions were out of control."

"For all of us, hon."

"We both had so much to work through but, here we are now and I still know what to do."

"You'll both know when the time is right."

"I try to make her jealous, I try to make her happy, with the exception of your naked door suggestion, I have tried just about everything and my options are dwindling."

"You know, sweetie, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink…"

The severe honesty of that statement punctures Maura's heart with an icicle. Angela's somber voice suddenly sprouts a smile.

"But you can sure ride the hell out of it until it's ready to drop and then set it loose near a glacial spring!"

The doctor's throat full of swallowed tears is now full of laughter. Angela echoes the amusement and returns to putting the finishing touches on the meal.

"Always remember that Jane likes to lead, even more so when she's scared and insecure."

"Is it because I'm Maura instead of Maury?"

"That's not it at all – our whole family is in love with you, not just my girl – she knows that wouldn't and shouldn't be an issue."

"Thank you for saying that."

"Give my daughter a little more time, a little more space, a pinch of oregano, and she'll come around."

"You truly believe that, Angela?"

"I do, with all my heart – I always wanted my Janie to bring home a doctor… but I never knew she would be so gorgeous."

Maura sets down the silverware and now gives Mrs. Rizzoli a huge hug.

"And if it doesn't work out, I have two great sons… make that one great son and one that's very easy on the eyes."

Maura titters and returns to her wine glass.

"Hmm, I appreciate the offer but there's only one Rizzoli I'm interested in… the one that's great AND easy on the eyes!"

"Smart girl – now, let's get this dinner over with so we can watch that movie you're always going on about."

"I can't believe you've never seen _Ready to Wear_."

"Since Sophia Loren is in it, I'll give it a try."

There is a sudden, loud knock at the door. The cadence reveals specificity.

"Are you expecting someone, hon?"

"That's Jane's knock."

Before Angela has time to process why her daughter is here instead of in another town, Maura is already unlocking the door. She opens it to find a frigid detective dusted in light snow with her hands shoved in her coat pockets.

"It's friggin' cold out here."

The two raise the temperature with their stare. Maura gently brushes away a tiny flake lodged in Jane's chin dimple using only the tip of her thumb.

"It's warm inside."

Isles steps back and allows entry. Rizzoli continues to gaze at her friend as she slowly removes her coat. Angela calls out from the kitchen.

"Why aren't you in Worcester?"

"It was a bust – Marc's out of town and Geoffrey's in a mood. Besides, Pop wanted to watch the football game with Frankie… blech, football."

"Conveniently, you're just in time for dinner."

Taking off her boots, the detective winks at the doctor.

"I planned it that way."

"I'm glad you could join us, Jane."

"Nowhere else I'd rather be than with my two favorite ladies."

The smaller woman gives the taller one a heavy hug. Neither one is in a hurry to break the hold.

"Are you okay, Maura?"

"I am now."

"Uh-oh… what did she say to you?"

"Nothing, it was just fun girl talk."

"MA, WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HER?"

Angela takes a swig from her wine glass and aims her response at Maura.

"I simply said how adorable my daughter would look in a sea captain's hat if she ever decided to go to the ocean, that's all."

Maura squeals and runs out the room in hysterics. Wide-eyed, Jane gives her mom the "what-the-bloody-hell" double take. Mrs. Rizzoli is now bent over with hyena laughs.

"I get it, I get it… you two have been cooking with wine again!"

Jane marches over to the nearly empty bottle and shakes her head in mock disgust.

"Greedy, greedy girls!"

She pours the remaining burgundy liquid into a glass inspects it thoroughly.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate this."

Maura peeks around the corner at Jane and grins. Jane reflects it right back at her. Angela watches them both and nods appreciatively.

"C'mon you two, sit down and eat already."

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

The sharp sound of the oven timer rattles Maura's fond recollection of the other night. As she now surveys the meticulously set table and the nearly ready main course – the one in the oven and the one in her mind – the doctor stands in the anatomical position.

She closes her eyes and respires as if for the last time. There was no turning back now. One way or the other, everything was about to change.

The rumble of Jane's car is heard in the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

_So sorry. This has taken much longer than expected. I underestimated the holiday and craziness at my job. But after reading the upcoming spoilers, I now know I have to get this done before Monday. Here is the penultimate part before the conclusion. And, yes, they will most definitely be getting it on in the conclusion! I'm going to put the whole story together in one piece on my website (see my bio for link) on Sunday before I post the final chapter here. I am most thankful to you all for enjoying my fantasy with me; )_

Highly Strung – Part 4

The rhythmical scrape of the windshield wipers is the only noise competing with the engine of Jane Rizzoli's white Mustang GT. A light drizzle has settled in for the night as the detective breaks several speed laws racing over to her second home. Instead of blaring heavy metal or even Frankie's annoying mix CD, Jane chooses silence to keep her soul as calm as possible.

She would be at Maura Isles' house within moments. Would she be with the doctor all night or possibly longer? The expected cacophony of heart debating mind and both trumping body is rendered mute as she turns one last corner.

As Maura Isles heeds the commotion of Jane's nearby car, she steadies her slight tremble with a lip-biting little laugh. An impish grin escorted by darling dimples is her only companion as she slips out of her plush ecru bathrobe and cozy pink slippers.

Now at the door, Maura muses to herself that she always dreamed of a knight riding up on a white horse, she just never imagined it quite like this. No more jesters, serfs, pirates, or princes pretending to be kings, at last, her true champion has arrived.

Stomping footsteps approach quickly. Before a knock is given, Maura inhales deeply and throws open the door.

"Hi, could you sign for… WHOA BABY, BEST DELIVERY ROUTE EVER!"

Maura doesn't even have time to scream as she slams the door in the face of the FedEx guy and sinks to the floor in total humiliation. After regaining her composure, she scrambles to throw her robe and slippers back on as a now familiar knock is heard at the door.

"It's open, Jane!"

Rizzoli enters with the delivery under her arm.

"The FedEx guy just came."

"No doubt."

"Sure looked happy, did you give him a big tip?"

Isles glances down at her chest as she pulls the robe tighter.

"Two, apparently."

A perplexed detective studies the FedEx truck as it drives by and honks. Jane cautiously waves and locks the door behind her.

"Friendly enough dude but he sure doesn't know how to handle his package."

"Oh, I have the feeling he's handling his package as we speak."

"Good thing for you I found the box in your bushes."

Rizzoli holds it up triumphantly and grins. Isles folds her arms and cocks her head.

"Did you? Did you find my box, Jane? Because I know it's been a bit of a challenge."

"What are you talking about? It's right here in my hands and in front of my face."

As Jane meanders into the other room, Maura trails behind and whispers to herself.

"It will be soon enough."

Jane goes over to the fireplace to warm herself. She recognizes the same weird-ass slippers on Maura but in pink.

"Ma sure goes all out for one-of-a-kind gifts."

The detective points to the footwear and the doctor makes the connection.

"I think they're lovely and warm."

"So, do you want me to open your box for you?"

"What?"

"Your box… do you want me to open it?"

"Please. Do!"

The taller woman fumbles around in frustration and futility.

"I guess… ugh, I'm a little, little tired."

"Take your time, no rush."

The smaller woman looks on with concern as both women are taken aback by the detective's sudden lack of butchosity.

"Why do they make these stupid things so hard to get inside?"

"The tab… Jane. Use the tab."

"I think I know how to open a box, Maura!"

"I know but… the tab. Try… try working the tab. Jane. Just a little bit."

"RRRGGGHHH."

"NO, no. Relax… Jane. Please. The tab. Feel around for it. I know it's hard to find but… the box will open so much easier if you USE THE TAB."

"DAMMIT."

"DO YOU WANT ME TO SHOW YOU?"

"You mean this thing?"

Before Maura can answer, Jane has it in her teeth and pulls. The tab breaks off and she spits it out.

"Well, that worked great!"

The doctor rubs her temples and sighs as the detective fetches a knife from the kitchen.

"NOO, don't you DARE – my new Chiarugi leather tote is inside!"

"I'm a cop, I think I know how to handle a knife."

The box is opened and its contents freed before the doctor can form a snappy comeback.

"See? – congratulations, it's a ridiculously expensive, ridiculous-looking purse."

Maura swipes the tote, cuddles it for a moment, and places it aside with a delicate touch.

"Sometimes… inanimate objects are so much easier."

Jane is suddenly envious of the affection Maura is lavishing on her new prize. Isles picks up on this and shifts her adulation to her living object of desire. She inches a little closer and squeezes Rizzoli's elbow.

"Thank you so much, detective."

"You're quite welcome, doctor."

"But do not mock the power of the purse."

"I will admit that it's soft and supple."

"If you want to fondle it, you'll need to wash your hands first… and clean under your fingernails."

"I just had a shower."

"You don't smell like it – you smell..."

Isles nuzzles her face on Jane's sleeve and takes whiff.

"Very Jane-like."

Neither woman moves as they lock eyes and dare each other to break the stare.

"Let's get this off of you… right now!"

Jane can only respond with a monosyllabic utterance as Maura's fingers make quick work of the Boston jersey buttons.

"I don't want you to spill."

"Huh? – oh, right."

DING.

"Croissants are ready – let me go put this away while you take a seat at the table."

"O…k."

Rizzoli trudges to the dining area as Isles, out of her friend's visual range, snuggles the shirt and squirrels it away in a drawer. Maura now makes her way over to the table with the dinner.

"I know you prefer beer but would you mind opening up some champagne? It's chilling next to you."

"This better be easier than the box."

"Please don't use your teeth."

Jane yanks a bottle of Bollinger _Vieilles Vignes Françaises_ from its sterling silver ice cage and cautiously pops the cork.

"Is this the crazy expensive stuff?"

"Would it be any other kind?"

"I'll try not to spill."

"Or you could take off the rest of your clothes."

Jane coughs and fills the fine flutes as Maura butters the croissants. The doctor ponders the appropriateness of a toast but the detective has already taken an extra long swig.

"God, this is tasty!"

"Easy does it and make sure you keep hydrated."

Rizzoli has already drained half of the glass and now turns her attention to the food.

"Mmm, you must be some kind of kitchen magician because you made your omelet smell like steak."

"First of all, a frittata is different from an omelet, and it smells like steak because I broiled you a filet to go with it."

"SCORE."

The taller woman jabs at the plated meat with her fork and slices it up with her knife.

"There is a God after all."

"Yes, the god of atherosclerosis. Despite this, I knew you would be famished – here, I prepared a nice béarnaise to go with it."

The detective suspiciously studies the sauce and hesitates. The smaller woman rolls her eyes in defeat.

"Mon Dieu! – your regular steak sauce is on the 'Jane Shelf.'

"I got a shelf?"

Rizzoli sprints over to the fridge.

"What else is in here?"

"Beer, your mother's stromboli, and other commoner condiments."

The detective returns to the table with the bottle in one hand and flourishes the other over the doctor.

"COMMONER condiments, huh?"

"Quite common commoner condiments, coincidently."

Dropping her voice to an ultra low register, Jane purrs in Maura's ear.

"Well, your highness, let it be known that my commoner condiments are going to make your prissy little béarnaise beg and scream for more."

It's now Maura's turn to whisper seductively.

"Too bad I didn't serve any amuse-bouche."

"Amused what?"

"Bouche."

"Bush?"

"BOO-shh – mouth."

The doctor lightly traces the outline of Jane's lips with her middle finger.

"Round your 'O' – boooooo-shhhhhh."

Jane repeats the word perfectly and nips the tip of Maura's finger. The doctor's entire body begins to flush.

"Amused bush and mouth… this is getting better by the second!"

Maura eyes signal that she is about to attack Jane but the doctor is suddenly distracted by the swollen knot near the detective's scalp. She lightly touches it and then leaps up.

"It's nothing to worry about, it's just a little bump."

"It's a contusion because you were in a fight."

"We were sparring."

Isles returns from the other room with a pen light.

"It was a fight, Jane. Did you lose consciousness?"

"No – would you stop already, I'm fine."

"Let me be the judge of that…"

Maura shines the light in Jane's eyes and runs through a set of maneuvers.

"PERRLA, EOMI, good… clench your jaw, open, now move it side to side… trigeminal is okay."

"What are you doing?"

"A simple check of your cranial nerves, keep watching my finger."

"I have a finger you can watch."

Rizzoli rakishly wags her middle finger in the face of Isles. The doctor gently pushes it down and has her 'this-is-dead-serious' face on.

"Stop being a child… now, stick out your tongue."

"Really?"

"Do it."

She does. Maura finishes her check list as Jane's eyes examine the breasts before her.

"You have all the fun, when do I get to play doctor?"

Instead of the anticipated joking retort, both women are startled by the rawness of Maura's hushed response.

"Whenever you're ready."

Neither one of them moves. Neither one of them breathes. Both of them wait for the other to twitch. Jane goes first.

"Is that what you were doing earlier with the FedEx guy, playing doctor?"

Silence. A visage Jane has never seen before bristles all over Maura. It is a combination of cool anger, unbelievable hurt, pure puzzlement, and rapid retreat.

"I saw the boner in his pants."

The doctor snaps off her pen light and briskly walks out of the room.

"I'm a cop for Christ's sake, you think I wouldn't notice that?"

Maura searches for rationalization. All of Mrs. Rizzoli's warnings flood back to her. Jane likes to lead when she's scared and insecure. And there was no mistaking the seething jealousy that rattled the detective's words. She takes very small comfort in the latter.

The doctor calmly returns to the room and sits perfunctorily at the dinner table. Maura suddenly opens her robe and exposes her upper torso. Jane attempts to look elsewhere. She is unable to do so.

"Unfortunately, I do believe you are correct – since I answered the door similar to what you see before you, the young man most likely experience an erection. However, that was not my intention since I do not know him nor do I wish to."

"You… you answered the door… naked?"

"Yes, I did."

"Wh… why?"

"Because I was expecting you, Jane."

Rizzoli drags her bottom teeth over her upper lip and tightens her abdomen. Isles closes her robe and leans in.

"Do you honestly need to ask why? – because it's the same reason I made this dinner, it's the same reason I have fresh new sheets and candles in the bedroom, it's the same reason I steal your t-shirts, it's the same reason we've been doing this mating dance for over a year, it's the same reason you came running the second I called, and it's the same reason you want to abacinate the FedEx guy, Briggs, and every man that even breathes in my direction."

Jane is shell-shocked into a stupor. Maura grins, takes a sip from her glass and a bite of her frittata.

"Now, you may respond or we could enjoy this tantalizing repast which is now starting to wander in the realm of tepid. Your choice!"

Rizzoli stuffs as much of a croissant in her mouth as possible and furtively peeks across the table.

"I guess I'm going to need my strength later..."


	5. Chapter 5

Highly Strung – Part 5

Detective Jane Rizzoli and Dr. Maura Isles sit opposite from each other at the dining room table in utter silence. Only the clinking of utensils on quickly emptying porcelain plates fills the air.

Maura mentally berates herself for possibly pushing too far, too fast. The dark-haired beauty hasn't fled yet, so that might be taken as a positive portent.

Jane is briefly fascinated with the gilded weave China pattern in front of her. She now contemplates all the different ways she wants to make love to the woman across from her and when exactly to make the right move.

An unacknowledged game of footsie – sans weird-ass slippers – is in full effect under the table. After a few more moments of awkward chewing, a new conversation is attempted.

"Um, I've always known that you were stealing my shirts... kinda klepto but kinda cute."

"Wait… how?"

Jane points to herself.

"I'm… a… detective! – if I had my badge with me, I'd flash you."

"Flash me something else."

"That's your expertise."

Both erupt in a goofy giggle.

"Your mother found the shirts in my laundry, didn't she?"

"Hey, part of being a good detective is having credible informants."

"Uh-huh."

"So, what exactly do you do with my shirts?"

"Maybe I'll show you later."

Rizzoli gulps down a glass of ice water and wolfs down another croissant.

"Masticate for me, Jane."

"What?"

"Chew your food, don't inhale – your duodenum will thank you."

"If you say so, Maura – you know, I could of brought over some takeout, you didn't need to go through all of this."

"I did need to go through all of this – just like you went to the gym for release, this is how I try to relax."

"Try?"

"Not quite there yet… some tension remains."

Jane stuffs the remnants of her frittata in her mouth as Maura points to her own full fork.

"And if the eggs hurl sexual insults at us, I know how to beat them without being written up."

The detective nearly chokes on a chortle as the doctor flashes her signature grin.

"Lady, I adore your eggs, they're fuuu… unbelievably awesome."

Both are unaware that their fingers are now doing that touching thing again.

"As long as they don't taste like caviar, correct?"

Jane groans and immediately drops her head into her hands.

"I can't look at you…"

"There is a difference in flavor and texture between beluga and sevruga."

Rizzoli sheepishly raises her incredulous head and gapes at Isles.

"WOW… just wow with the humor – am I finally rubbing off on you?"

"That has been the plan all along."

"I need to pee, I'll be right back."

"Do not attempt to sneak out of the bathroom window… I will be forced to hunt you down."

"You can use one of my shirts for a scent trail."

Jane coquettishly glances back and her eyes click with Maura's again. The doctor takes the opportunity to clear the dinner plates and retrieve the crème brulee from the kitchen. She is refilling both the champagne and water glasses as the detective returns. Rizzoli presents her hands for inspection. Isles gives them the once over but focuses on the swollen knuckles. She strokes them softly.

"Aw, Jane."

"They're fine…"

The taller woman starts in on her dessert.

"See? – I can hold a spoon and everything, I'm fine, Maura… really."

"You shouldn't let Neanderthals – technically, Cro-Magnons – like Briggs get to you."

"I got to him as well."

"You should have ignored him."

"Couldn't help it, that bastard deserved it and much more."

"Is it anything as women working in a nearly-all male environment we haven't heard before?"

"Oh, trust me, this was pretty bad."

"I know… Yoshima won't be able to look at me in the eye for months."

"Instead of knocking the snot out of Briggs what would you've had me say, 'Go copulate yourself up the nearest tree!'?"

"Ooh, not a bad idea at all, actually."

Maura raises an eyebrow causing Jane to drop her spoon.

"I've just had it with all the damn digs aimed at us."

"Then, I won't even begin to describe my daily onslaught of necrophilia jokes."

"Please – I'm trying to enjoy my burnt custard stuff."

"Shall I regale you with my cotillion stories instead?"

"Put your spoon… in your mouth… pronto."

"Jane, I may be a bit socially awkward but I am not hearing impaired… I know what everyone says about us."

"I'm sorry, Maura."

"Whatever for? – people see what they want to see, it's human nature – and most everything in life is open to some level of interpretation…"

Isles takes a spoonful of her dessert and holds it out temptingly to Rizzoli. Jane leans forward and leisurely draws the spoon in her mouth without breaking eye contact with Maura.

"And yet, sometimes people see the resoundingly obvious to the point of farce – and they are bewildered by the subjects' blatant refusal to recognize or act on what is right in front of their faces…"

The strawberry blonde pulls her spoon back and laggardly licks off a tiny bit left behind.

"God almighty, Maura, you're beyond beautiful… but Briggs is still an asshole."

"Agreed."

"I'm just so sick of the bullshit, even if we do a superiah job, it don't seem to mattah!"

"And there's that accent."

"It only comes out full when I'm wicked pissed or supah tiahed."

"Usually, you sound like a Texan."

"WHAT? – for the love of Christ, of all the states to pick from, why would you say that?"

The doctor feigns innocence.

"Are you deliberately trying to screw with me?"

"I am… and I promise not to do so in front of Briggs or anyone else at work."

The detective blinks at the comment and continues to assail the dessert. Her timbre suddenly downshifts.

"Since when do you take demeaning genitalia jokes lightly, Maura?"

The doctor swallows slowly and dabs her mouth with her napkin.

"You believe I am accepting of Briggs' goading gutter talk?"

"I do."

"I know I wasn't present to experience the full impact of his tirade but please do not equate that with acceptance."

Rizzoli is unable to look at Isles and plays nervously with her spoon. Maura sighs, sits back, and winds up with her rebuttal.

"Okay… let's see… my parents suffered through years of infertility before they adopted me which explains a lot – my college roommate was date raped and I had to take her to the free clinic to terminate the resulting pregnancy because she was too afraid to report the assault – oh, and my best nurse in Africa came from the Sudan where, at the age of eleven, she had her clitoris and vulva removed by the village elders using a hot razor and locking pliers… so, no, Jane, I do not take genitalia jokes lightly."

The detective squirms in her seat like she did in third grade math class when she knew she was going to be called upon for an answer she did not have. The doctor is on a roll.

"In fact, contrary to your belief that I must be some kind of strumpet with every delivery man that darkens my doorway, I do not take my genitalia lightly, either – my most recent bloodborne pathogen results are in the desk drawer if you wish to peruse them."

Jane rubs her face with her hand and mumbles something into it.

"I… cle… oo."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm clean, too."

"I know… I had you tested after whatever that last affair was – what was that by the way? – an attempt to hide your real feelings for me? – because that is what all of my affairs are based on, trying to figure out why I am not with you!"

Jane starts to shiver but it is exceedingly warm inside the house.

"Now, if you want me to file an official complaint against Officer Briggs, I will – I will back you with anything you want to do – normally, I would be just as outraged as you and Yoshima are but… I suppose after cutting up a child earlier, I simply wanted something – anything – to be funny."

Jane nods in shame as she attempts to hold back tears.

"And you know what is truly amusing? – the sorry fact that an amoeba like Briggs can see it… and amoebae do not have eyes!"

Maura stands up in an animated manner.

"You know who else sees it? – your mother, your brother, Frost, Korsak, all of Korsak's stray animals, the bartender at the Robber, the blind lady at the seafood shack who doesn't speak English, serial killers, and the mailbox across the street with the fleur-de-lis emblem… they all see it, too… WHY DON'T YOU?"

"I DO SEE IT, MAURA… I SEE IT VERY CLEARLY, ALWAYS HAVE."

"THEN WHY DON'T YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, JANE?"

The detective deliberately does not get up from her chair nor does she make eye contact. The doctor now stands right next her.

"Maybe I need to get violent for some kind of response out of you…"

Maura slaps the side of Jane's arm once.

"Stop it."

She does so again, this time a little harder.

"I said STOP IT."

Before Isles can attempt another swing, Rizzoli calls upon her training to gently but effectively seize Maura by the wrists and pull her into her lap. Jane's teeth are chattering as her voice reaches the lowest level of human auditory perception.

"This tactic… is unacceptable… and you know it."

The hot snarl of breath in Maura's ear warns her that she has definitely gone too far this time. If she smiles, she would be acquiescing. If she escalates the mood, it would get even uglier. If she makes a comical face, Jane would not take her seriously.

Still straddling the taller woman's lap, the smaller woman cautiously traces a higher cheekbone with her own. She uses the only weapon she has left in her arsenal – the truth.

"I don't know what to do with all of these emotions… do you?"

"Yeah… I do."

And with that, Detective Jane Rizzoli makes eye contact for a final time before she delivers one, precisely targeted kiss to the lips of Dr. Maura Isles. It lasts long and is returned with fervor.

"Oh, Jane, I have wanted this…"

The detective finishes the sentence for the doctor.

"Since the first moment we met, Maura…"

They return to deep, lingual kissing. Both women are petrified that if they stop the exchange, the whole world around them would disappear and they would wake up from a recurrent shared dream.

Passions kept contained continue to intensify as the floodgates are thrown open. Maura rakes all ten fingers through a head of raven hair as Jane runs both hands along the contours of smooth alabaster skin.

The doctor notices her belt ties begin to loosen and slide apart. The same thing is happening inside her thighs. Her ecru robe now falls to the floor as the detective casts off her own tank top with one quick motion.

Savage Jane battles Noble Jane for dominance as she continues to clutch her best friend turned lover in her hands. Maura reluctantly breaks from kissing for much needed air.

"We're not going to make it to the bedroom, are we?"

"No."

And with that, Rizzoli summons all of her core strength as she propels both Isles and herself up and onto the dining room table. One of the champagne glasses spills but neither one of them cares. Another round of kissing commences. This time, they do not limit it to the face.

It's Jane's turn to break for air as she scoops some crème brulee with her right index and middle fingertips. She presents them to Maura's mouth with an evil grin and a cocked brow.

"What are you doing?"

"What I should have done at Faneuil Hall…"

Maura accepts all of Jane's fingers asking for permission to enter. As she suckles the crème brulee clean from the detective's digits, the doctor discerns stealthy movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't mind me, hon, I'm just getting the stromboli for Aunt Tina's pinochle game."

Everything now happens in super slow motion as both Rizzoli and Isles simultaneously become aware of Angela's presence. Maura panics and clamps down on Rizzoli's fingers. Jane screams in multiple levels of agony. Isles now screams and releases her fingers.

"Jesus, Janie, at least have the decency to do Maura on a mattress."

"AAARRRGGGHHH – MY FINGAHS!"

Jane crashes down to the floor and cradles her right hand under her left arm. Maura quickly follows behind and attempts to inspect the injured phalanges.

"When was your last Tdap?"

"WHEN DID YOU BECOME A RABID RACCOON?"

The smaller woman grabs her robe and hides under the table as the taller one whips her tank top back on and turns to her mother.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, MA."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE USE THAT LANGUAGE ON ME, YOUNG LADY."

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?"

"I FUCKING LIVE HERE."

"WHYYYYYYYYY DO YOU FUCKING LIVE HERE?"

"ASK YOUR GIRLFRIEND WHEN SHE DOESN'T HAVE YOUR FINGERS IN HER MOUTH AND OTHER PLACES."

"MAAAAAAAAA."

Angela bends down to eye level with Maura.

"See what you did, Jane? – it's bad enough you hid her in a closet, now you've got her crying under a table!"

Mrs. Rizzoli clucks to the doctor like calling a cat in from the backyard.

"Come on out, sweetie, it's okay… the both of you, come on out, it's way past time!"

The detective tromps over to the front door and throws it open.

"LEAVE. RIGHT NOW. PLEASE."

With stromboli still in hand, Angela steps to the door in a dignified fashion.

"Your father is gonna hear about this."

"I'm sure parts of QUINCY have heard about this."

As Angela crosses the threshold, she turns back and whispers with the same rasp as her daughter.

"Don't you fuck this up for us, Janie, I like granite countertops and going to the opera... Nonna's ring is ready when you are."

"Ma, if you don't find your own fucking place soon, I'll fucking find it for you, in the fucking trunk of my fucking CAAAH."

Jane slams the door and beats on it with her fists several times. She spies a credenza and shoves it against the door.

"Ow, my fucking back, grrrrrr."

Thoroughly spent and covered in sweat, Rizzoli crumbles to the floor in front of Isles who is still too paralyzed to speak or move. Jane unleashes a ragged sigh and pulls her long, aching legs into the crossed position. She unconsciously begins to rub her arm.

"I don't… really know… how I went from shooting a suspect on the floor, to hitting a boxing ring floor, to sitting on your hardwood floor, staring at your tortoise…"

Maura peeps down and quickly closes her robe.

"Your other tortoise."

Bass stares back at both of them with this thought: _You two are the most pathetic human beings I have ever had the severe misfortune to bear witness to._

"Maura, I completely understand if you never want to speak to me or any of us again and I'll have Ma's things packed in ten minutes, just please – please come out from under the table…"

Isles warily does and scoots over to Rizzoli's side. She now leans her head against Jane's shoulder and exhales in a measured count.

"That… was rather intense."

"I know."

Jane gently strokes Maura's hair and back.

"Please don't think I disrespected my mother, that's just – well, it does come across as crazy disrespectful – but it's our crazy way of caring for each other and, and I just didn't want her to… well, you know."

"You didn't want her to watch as you finger fucked your best friend on the dining room table."

"Pretty much."

"I completely understand."

The detective nuzzles the doctor's forehead as both of them share a laugh over the ludicrous situation.

"So, uh, I'm guessing we'll need another place to serve Christmas dinner?"

"We will be dining at a restaurant this year."

"Yep, we will totally be dining at a restaurant this year."

The smaller woman takes the injured hand of the taller woman and carefully examines it. Jane pouts her lower lip and whimpers like a little girl.

"Ow."

"I know."

Maura coos and delicately kisses the unfortunate fingers.

"Skin is intact, nothing broken, excellent capillary fill time… any numbness or tingling?"

"Physical numbness, no – and there is a little tingling… but not in my fingers."

"Hmm."

"I literally can't close my legs."

"No worries, I will take care of that, as well."

The two lock eyes and kiss again. The detective winces as she turns the wrong way.

"Jesus, I don't know how my body could hurt so bad and yet still be so horny."

"Well, in the human brain, the nucleus accumbens…"

"NO, no, no, no."

"I could massage your cervix?"

"YES, yes, yes, yes."

"We'll start with your upper cervix… the neck."

"Right."

Before she begins her manipulation, the doctor retrieves a few ice cubes from the champagne bucket and wraps them in a napkin. She places the napkin on the detective's right hand and now settles herself in back of her best friend turned lover turned patient.

"Good thing it wasn't your left hand."

"The god of athero-whatever-you-call-it is apparently our biggest fan."

"I will gladly worship at the altar of any god or goddess for finally getting us here – I was running out of female fertility symbols to throw at you… the conch shell in my office was the last resort."

"Heh."

Maura's soothing ministrations to Jane's neck and back last for several minutes. Their skin-to-skin contact causes both of them to relax and tense simultaneously.

"Mmm, I'm in the palms of your hands, Maura – you have me right where you want me… right where I want to be."

"Almost."

Isles kisses Rizzoli's neck while continuing the massage.

"Jane… I want you to know something – last month, I had lunch with an old BCU professor – she is retiring at the end of the semester and said the job is mine if I want it."

"And you're telling me this now because…"

"Because I want you to know that we have options – if working together and being in a relationship is going to be an issue, we will find a solution together – we always do."

"It's not going to be an issue, but thank you."

"Being with you, Jane, having you in my life, in my bed, means more to me than any medical examiner position in the world."

"Aw, babe… we still can't get to the bed, can we?"

"I can barely move."

"My chest feels like it's in the homestretch of the racetrack."

"That's because we need to get you off."

And with that, Maura's right hand dives from Jane's neck and plunges below into her pants.

"WHOA, WHOA, WAIT A MINUTE."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I mean, I'm on the floor here."

"And where exactly were we before your mother arrived? – strolling along the banks of the Charles?" – modesty left the room eons ago."

"I'm not some plant that needs to be watered or a light switch that needs to be turned on."

"You might want to rethink those comparisons."

"I'm not a chore."

"And I am not your chore whore."

"I just… I just want you to know that this isn't some casual fun night on the placemats for me, Maura."

"I am very aware of that, Jane. And I want you to know this is not some science experiment for me… the control group is nowhere to be found."

"Hey!"

The doctor attempts to quell the growing unease of the detective with reassuring kisses and cuddles.

"This is only the prelude, I promise."

"Yeah?"

"This is not carnal, clinical, nor cutesy – this is me wanting to do this because you want me to do this, yes? – if not, just say no at any time and I will stop."

"I'm nervous."

"When are you not? – remember the first time we met? – if there was no one else in the elevator with us, what would we have done to each other?"

Rizzoli's vivid memory of Isles that day is enough to quash all fears.

"I'm ready."

"Good… because I do not want you stroking out before we orally launch each other's swan boats!"

"HAHAHA… oh, Holy Mother of God!"

"Maura will suffice."

The smaller woman holds on to the taller one for dear life and takes her full weight as she collapses into bliss.

Making the one you love laugh? Good. Making the one you love come? Better. Making the one you love laugh and come at the same time? Best of all possible worlds!

Maura feels Jane's long, hard body around hers and luxuriates in the moment of lawlessness and disorder. She takes her robe and places it as a makeshift pillow under the sleeping woman's head. The temptation to kiss her awake is overwhelming. However the need for a recovery time is essential.

With a deft touch gained from her profession and too many ballet lessons in her youth, the doctor nimbly extricates herself from the lolling limbs of the detective without disturbing the peace. She gathers a couple of sumptuous throw blankets and covers her lover and herself with them. It isn't long before she nods off, too.

Awhile later, Jane opens her eyes to see Bass, once again, staring at her.

"Maura…"

Isles is spooning next to her.

"Hmm?"

"Why are we still ON THE FLOOR?"

"Jane."

"OW… getmeupgetmeupgetmeup."

The doctor springs up and helps the detective to her feet. They hobble over to the sofa where Rizzoli flops down. As Maura starts to walk away, Jane greedily pulls her back on top of her and another round of kissing commences.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To get us some water and extra-strength NSAIDs."

"Sounds like a plan."

The doctor slowly stands, deliberately displaying her décolletage and all of its surrounding glories. The detective mutters a prayer under her breath. Maura returns within moments with two full glasses and a bottle of pills. They swallow in unison.

"Feel free to watch the baseball game for a bit, I will be right back."

Without questioning, Rizzoli does as she is told. Red Sox lead the Brewers 7 to 4. Jane tries to concentrate on the game as her team turns a brilliant double play.

"YES."

Isles now reenters the room. The bathrobe has been replaced with a silk and lace verdigris negligee and matching six-inch stilettos.

"Is the game going well for you?"

Jane's eyes widen to their limits as Maura and her signature smile approach.

"Ooh, it totally is now!"

The taller woman jumps up and meets the not-so-smaller woman eye to eye. The scintillating heat between them is enough to keep all of the Back Bay warm through the winter.

"Have I told you how hot you are, Dr. Isles?"

"It is something I will never tire of hearing, Detective Rizzoli."

"I do drink beer and I do like baseball but I'm most definitely not a man."

"I am very well aware of that."

Maura trails a kiss up from chin dimple to lips. Jane slides her hands down the ample curves. The detective seductively lowers herself while still maintaining eye contact. She reaches the stilettos, abruptly pulls each foot free, and flings the shoes across the room.

"You don't need these… for me to be attracted to you."

Jane rests her face against Maura's navel area as the strawberry blonde grasps fistfuls of raven hair.

"But I do need them to reach you."

"Lady, don't you see you have me on my knees?"

The two of them reflect soft, loving smiles at each other. Until Jane begins to wobble.

"JUST NOT FOR VERY LONG TONIGHT… OW, OW, OW, CRAMP."

The doctor becomes an attractive crutch as the detective limps back to the sofa.

"SHIT… I'm so sorry."

"It's not a problem, you have had a very taxing time – it's your body's way of saying enough."

Isles reclines on the sofa first and then secures Rizzoli on top of her. Maura's interest is suddenly piqued by the game.

"How fascinating that these two teams are named after an article of clothing and one who makes a fermented beverage instead of the typical fierce animal or mythical tribe."

Jane is busy feasting on the breasts before her.

"Mmm… sure… fascinating."

A few minutes pass and heaving a chest is felt. What Jane mistakes for arousal is actually sobbing. Rizzoli squints up and follows Isles' look of abject horror to the television. On screen is an amusement park commercial with a happy family enjoying the rides. One of the girls is very similar looking to the recent young victim.

"Oh, nonono, Maura – please don't go there!"

The detective flips off the TV but the doctor already has several tear rivulets draining down her cheeks.

"Already there…"

Protective Jane immediately snaps to attention and repositions herself on the sofa. She cradles the weeping woman in her arms and tenderly sways.

"Shh-shh, we did everything we could… and more."

"When I was the doing the autopsy, all I could think about was how strong and brave she was…"

The words catch in Isles' mouth.

"Her poor family – all these years of searching, only for the inevitable conclusion."

"They had hope. It's a fuel that drives you harder and longer than rage ever could."

"I doubt my family would keep searching for me like that – they would arrange the schedule for the most dignitaries to be at the funeral."

"I'd keep searching for you… hell, I've been searching for you my whole life – and found you because of a bad map."

This elicits a half smile from the smaller woman who rewards the taller one with a sweet, simple kiss.

"Being a lefty, that girl also reminded me of you, Jane…"

The doctor points to a mahogany-framed picture on her end table. The detective smiles at the photo taken of the two of them at the Esplanade last Fourth of July.

"Why, oh why, Maura, did you insist on us wearing those silly hats?"

"I'm not looking at the silly hats, Jane – see how the woman on the right…"

She points to herself.

"Is looking at the woman on the left?"

She points to Jane.

"Her ardor for this woman is all encompassing and ingravescent – even the camera won't lie and disguise it in the photo."

Rizzoli takes Isles' hand into hers and squeezes it firmly as more tears begin to flow.

"The day of the shooting was the absolute worst day of my life – if I ever lost you, I would lose everything…"

Maura chokes back tears as Jane wipes the escaped ones from her face. She continues.

"I want to say something to you, I've been trying to say it for a long time but I just never knew when the right moment would be – after what we just went through with this case, I do know I do not want to carry that photograph of us in a wallet for four years and wonder what if…"

The detective beats the doctor to the ultimate punch.

"I'm completely, madly, and utterly in love with you, Maura Isles…"

A burst of laughter makes it past the tears.

"Oh, Jane Rizzoli, I am in love with you with all four chambers of my heart and more – I study death to learn about life but you have taught me better than any scalpel ever could!"

They embrace long and kiss hard.

"Maura, you drive me out of my mind and you give me hope."

"I will never get lost again as long as I am with you, Jane."

"Now… do you think we can make it to the bedroom this time?"

"Even if we have to crawl."

The smaller woman tugs the taller woman and implores her to pursue. Together, they carefully make their way to the other room, Jane's left hand locked in Maura's right.

The low tone of a down-tempo ambient track reverberates from the bedroom. Usually, Rizzoli would be making massive fun of the so-called music but it fits the mood perfectly. Isles' attention to detail serves her well in her profession and in other aspects of life.

Both women are lit up by the blue light of the moon peeking through the windows. Their eyes reflect it even more with a haunting gleam. Jane pulls her unruly black mane into a ponytail and smirks. Maura raises an eyebrow.

"Are you planning on breaking down a door, detective?"

"I need a clear line of vision to do my job properly, doctor."

With that, the taller woman spins the smaller woman into her arms and pushes her up against the now slammed shut portal. Another round of kissing and more as Maura entices Jane away from the doorway. The master chef deliberately slows the boil and resumes her seduction with solo spins and swirls in time with the music. The negligee slides off within seconds.

With an intense gaze locked on Maura, Jane allows herself to become the maypole. Honey hair and soft skin entwine around tan limbs. Delicate fingers tickle under the tank top and toss it aside. Those same fingers now slide down sweat pants which are ensnared and discarded.

Now free of fabric and other bonds, both women finally make it to their prolonged destination.

Their first time in bed together as a romantic couple involves tender, splendid lovemaking where heartfelt declarations of amore and fidelity tumble from their lips.

Hardcore fucking claims the next four.

The heinous darkness of the past few days provided them with an invaluable gift, a gift that everyone holds but often times fails to recognize – the realization that long life is only a potential and not a certainty. And finding the other half of your soul is not a guarantee but a journey well worth the effort. Especially when you do!

The dawn awakens Jane first. The candles are extinguished, the music is off, there are no distractions, except for the slumbering woman beside her. Maura is in the middle of her other favorite dream – romping in a warm meadow with Jane as gigantic neon butterflies sing to them in Gaelic. Rizzoli nestles a little closer to Isles and ruminates.

Being a good daughter to Frank and Angela, being a great sister to Frankie and Tommy, being a loyal member of Red Sox Nation, being ready to sacrifice her life for the city of Boston, all of this makes Jane who she is. But being with Maura right now, in this way, is who she was meant to be.

Isles is startled awake. Not the fearful startle of someone breaking into the house or the forgetful startle of leaving the gas burners on. It's the warm, wet startle of her other half making love to her. She smiles and revels in the pleasure.

"Good morning, Jane…"

The afternoon sun is now a floodlight through the bedroom window. The detective is sprawled out on the bed naked with only a sheet covering her lower region. She looks like the cat that ate the canary. Six times.

The doctor enters the room wearing nothing but Jane's gray jersey – ironically, a jersey with the lucky number seven emblazoned on the back underneath the Rizzoli name. Isles carries a tray with an assortment of edible goodies, including crème fraiche.

"Ooh, do I smell coffee… and bacon?"

"Indeed – I figured we should continue to honor the god of atherosclerosis for another day."

Maura delivers the coffee with kiss and then skips over to her closet.

"It's too late to go back inside!"

"Indulge me for a minute."

"I thought that's what I've been doing."

The smaller woman scurries back to the bed and climbs on top of the taller one. She has a sea captain's hat in her hand.

"What is that?"

Before Jane can protest, Maura places it on her head.

"Why?"

"I'm impressed with how well you navigated my shoals."

The detective runs her hands through amber waves of hair and alternates between kisses and coffee slurps.

The doctor sits up straight, flashes her signature grin, and reaches for her phone.

"And your mother would love it!"

"Aw, God."

Jane makes one of her signature faces of disgust as Maura snaps her picture.

"Speaking of which…"

Maura presses the button for voicemail playback. Angela is the first message.

"Hi sweethearts, I hope you two are having fun, the stromboli was a big hit but your Aunt Tina is a cheat – I see that _Tosca_ is coming to town next month, I'd love it if we all could go… Jane, I SWEAR TO GOD, I want to go. Bye."

Rizzoli rolls her eyes while Isles cracks up. The next message plays.

"Hello, Dr. Isles, it's Sergeant Korsak, I hope you're enjoying your day off. Ahem, in case you run into Jane, please let her know that the department is expediting a transfer for Briggs to Springfield – seems the chief's wife is Sicilian. Anyway, we'll see you tomorrow, get some rest… [Detective 'Black Oak Barry' Frost chimes in] because tree climbing is exhausting, even for experts like yourself!"

Jane and Maura can only shake their heads and giggle. Another message plays.

"Hey Janie, Ma told me where you were – WOOOOOOOOO YEEEAAAH, YANKEES SUCK, YANKEES SUCK, YANKEES SUCK… it's not just the Yankees doing the sucking, huh sis?"

"How many more, Maura?"

"Just one, Jane."

"Maura, it's your father… it's about damn time – tell Rizzoli if she ever hurts you… well, she knows."

"I do know, Doyle."

His message continues.

"And Maura… learn how to close your blinds."

With that, the doctor presses her phone off and returns her full attention to the detective.

"Apparently your mother and my father can now compare notes."

"Maybe we should just go back to Faneuil Hall and do it in public."

"Or we could have our own TV show."

"Think anyone would watch?"

"Maybe a couple."

"Yeah, a couple of pervs."

"No, you would have to be somewhat intelligent to watch us."

"And what exactly would this show be called?"

"Isles & Rizzoli of course."

"Really?"

"I'm being fair, it's alphabetical."

"Rizzoli & Isles, my name has more letters than yours."

"Isles & Rizzoli, it starts and ends with an 'i' – it's symmetrical."

"Let's save this debate for later…"

And cue hideous _Dropkick Murphys_ knock-off song, fade to black, FIN.

-30-

**Thank you all for sticking with this! What started out as a lark for me has turned into my thank you note/love letter to the first season of 'Rizzoli & Isles.' Let's hope there is more to come; )**


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